Hominy. It just isn’t one of my favorites. It’s no green pepper – blech – but I struggle with the texture. I don’t want soggy popcorn in my soup. I’ve never cooked with it myself, and I almost left it out of this soup – until I saw that it was pureed. That seemed safe enough.

When I opened the can to make dinner, I noticed that hominy smells like one of my favorite foods – fresh corn tortillas. It’s the same nixtamalization process that it used for masa harina, and I love that intensely corny aroma.

It was great in this soup; pureeing the hominy binds the broth together and makes it thick but not starchy or gloppy. And now that I know how good hominy tastes, I might try it whole. I could learn to like hominy after all…unlike green peppers, which are a lost cause.

1. Heat the oven to 425 degrees. Spray the tortilla strips with oil (or nonstick spray) and season with salt. Halve and cut crosswise into ¼-inch strips. Arrange in a single layer on a baking sheet and cook until deep-golden brown and crispy, 10 to 12 minutes, tossing halfway through.

2. Meanwhile, heat the remaining 1 tablespoon of oil in a large pot or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add the onion and cook until softened, about 4 minutes. Add the garlic, cumin, chili powder, and chipotle chile; cook, stirring constantly, until fragrant, about 1 minute. Add the broth, hominy, and tomatoes. Increase the heat to medium-high and bring to a simmer, then reduce the heat to medium-low; cover and simmer for 15 minutes.

3. Puree the soup, either with an immersion blender or by transferring it in batches to a standup blender. Add the shrimp and cook, stirring occasionally, until they are just cooked through and opaque, about 3 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in the cilantro and lime juice. Serve immediately, topping each portion with tortilla strips.

While spinach with feta hasn’t quite reached the level of “Oh my god, if I eat this one more time, I’ll go crazy”, it’s certainly a far cry from the “wow, I can’t believe how delicious something as simple as the combination of spinach and feta is.” (Seriously, if you haven’t tried it, check it out – feta is creamy and salty and briny, so it covers all of the bases that a good salad dressing does.) After I eat a banana with peanut butter about halfway through my workday afternoons, when the only snacks I have left are spinach with feta and vegetables with hummus, I think to myself, “well, that’s it, the rest of the afternoon’s snacks are just to be endured and not enjoyed.”

I don’t always, or even often, for that matter, want to spend part of my weekend making snacks for the week, but it’s occasionally worth it for some variety. This soup covers the same basic nutritional bases as spinach with feta would – vegetables and dairy protein. Surely raw spinach has more fiber and nutrients than roasted and boiled cauliflower, but let’s not overthink things.

The important thing is that I actually look forward to eating this every day, instead of wavering between disinterest and dread. And not just because it isn’t the same thing I’ve eaten everyday for the last three years – it’s a great soup. The pureed cauliflower makes it seem rich and creamy, while the feta and squeeze of lemon juice brighten up the flavors. Having something to look forward to when you’re six hours into a nine-hour workday is worth a bit of extra cooking on the weekend.

1. Place a rimmed baking sheet in the oven and heat the oven to 400 degrees. When the oven is hot, remove the baking sheet, add one tablespoon of olive oil plus a generous sprinkling of salt, then the cauliflower. Spray the top of the cauliflower with cooking spray. Roast, stirring twice, for 20-25 minutes, until a couple sides of each floret are deeply browned.

2. In a 5-quart pot, heat the remaining 1 tablespoon oil over medium heat. Add the celery, onion, and a pinch of salt; cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and the onion is translucent, 6-8 minutes. Add the roasted cauliflower, broth, and thyme. Bring to a simmer over medium-high heat, then reduce the heat to medium-low and simmer for 20 minutes. Puree, either with an immersion blender or in batches with a stand-up blender.

3. Stir the feta, lemon juice, and parsley into the soup. Taste for seasoning, adjusting as necessary, and serve immediately. (Can also be made several days in advance.)

I made this pumpkin mushroom soup a couple days ago using butternut squash instead of pumpkin, and it occurred to me that what was a pumpkin phase four years ago is now a butternut squash phase. I’ve been buying about two a week, and I’ve made all sorts of good stuff, like ravioli, chili, and lentil goat cheese salad. I was going to make squash kale pizza tonight, but some friends are getting together for dinner instead. I’m contributing butternut squash and green chile gratin. I thought about bringing this salad, but I already had it on the menu for next week anyway, so I know I’ll get to eat it soon.

Butternut squash soup has kind of been on my radar to make, but I tried a recipe a few years ago that was good but nothing special, so I hadn’t gone back to the idea since. I ended up making this for a Saturday night dinner that I wanted to be as fall-y as possible. It was the perfect idea for a first course before roast chicken with potatoes and pan-roasted Brussels sprouts and carrots. Even better, a friend of mine was hosting a fall-themed dinner later that week and didn’t have time to test out a soup recipe, so I was able to help her out.

I loved the soup, Dave loved the soup, my friend loved the soup, and then later that week, the rest of our group of friends said they loved the soup, several asking for the recipe. It’s kind of a subtle set of flavors, with nothing jumping out individually, but everything works well together. The star anise is interesting; if you think about it when you’re eating, it’s evident, but it and the cinnamon and nutmeg are balanced by the savory bay and thyme. The tart garnish (I made crème fraiche for the party but used Greek yogurt at home) was a nice complement since the soup is on the sweet side. I’m so glad I have a great butternut squash soup recipe after all these years – and it makes perfect sense that I would find it in the middle of a butternut squash phase.

The original recipe calls for the big spices to be tied up in a cheesecloth bundle before being added to the soup. I’m sure they’re easier to remove before blending this way, but fishing out a few spices from a pot of soup seemed easier to me than digging out the cheesecloth from the pantry.

1. Place a rimmed baking sheet in the oven; heat the oven to 425 degrees. When it’s hot, remove the pan from the oven and spread the olive oil evenly over the surface. Transfer the squash and a generous sprinkling of salt and pepper to the hot baking sheet; stir to coat. Roast the squash until browned on at least one side, about 25 minutes, stirring once.

2. Meanwhile, heat the oil in a large pot over medium heat. Add the shallots and cook, stirring occasionally, until the edges start to brown, 6-8 minutes. Add the garlic, pepper, bay, thyme, star anise, and peppercorns; cook, stirring constantly, until fragrant, about 1 minute. Add the wine and cook, scraping the bottom of the pot, until reduced by half. Add the roasted squash, broth, cream, sugar, salt, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Increase the heat to medium-high and bring to a simmer, then reduce the heat to medium-low; cover and simmer for 20 minutes.

3. Remove and discard the bay, thyme, star anise, and peppercorns. Puree the soup, either with an immersion blender or by transferring it in batches to a standup blender. Taste for seasoning and serve immediately, topped with Spiced Crème Fraîche. (Soup can be chilled for several days and reheated.)

Spiced Crème Fraîche

I actually don’t know how much of a difference the spices make, but I did like the tart dairy with the soup. Greek yogurt, sour creme, and crème fraîche will all work just fine.

I started jotting down what I had in mind instead, a tomato broth with lots of garlic, red pepper flakes, and rosemary, reminiscent of this braised white bean recipe. It also included the chickpeas I’d bought for the curry soup and pasta, which I’d been craving. But then that soup starting sounding familiar too.

Apparently I wouldn’t be striking bold new soup ground. But that’s okay. I didn’t want something new, I wanted something warm and comforting and easy, easier than my favorite pasta e fagioli recipe. This simple chickpea and pasta soup, infused with piney rosemary, hit the spot perfectly – maybe even better than the originally planned curry soup would have. I have no regrets for all my blunders that led me to this soup.

Participation in Branny’s fundraiser requires that the blog post be dedicated to a pet. I dedicate mine to my cat, Daisy, who is also warm and comforting and easy, at least when she isn’t puking on the carpet.

In a large saucepan over medium heat, heat the oil, garlic, and red pepper flakes. Once the oil starts to sizzle, stir for about 1 minute, then add the tomatoes with their juices, the chickpeas, broth, salt, rosemary, and parmesan rind (if using). Increase the heat to medium-high; once the liquid comes to a lively simmer, add the pasta, return the mixture to a boil, then reduce the heat to medium and simmer until the pasta is tender. Remove the rosemary sprigs, adjust the salt if necessary, and serve.

What a difference a few drops of vinegar make. I sat down to eat my soup and couldn’t shake the thought that it was missing something. It seemed like enough salt, but I thought maybe if I dribbled in some umami-y soy sauce, that would do the trick. On the way to the cabinet, I saw the bottle of sherry vinegar that I’d put on the counter to add to the soup and forgotten about it. It turns out, that’s exactly what the soup needed.

It isn’t that the soup is so bad without it, not by any means. With a flavor base of browned onions and carrots, then garlic and tomato paste, and finally a pile of sliced fresh mushrooms, there’s plenty of sweet and meat flavors (although no actual meat). A pinch of truffle salt didn’t hurt matters either, and porcini mushrooms along with their rehydrating broth take the mushroominess up another notch.

Farro gives the soup substance, and altogether it adds up to a dark, deeply flavored soup that is, nonetheless, missing something. A spoonful of sherry (or red wine) vinegar adds a touch of brightness that balances the rich flavors of the mushrooms. And then the soup is just right.

I added a stalk of celery too, because I had some in the fridge. I wouldn’t buy it just for this recipe though.

Feel free to substitute barley or wheat berries for the farro, but you’ll need to adjust the cooking time for different grains.

The photos of the final soup are of leftovers. Overnight, the farro soaks up some of the broth, making a thicker soup with softer grains. The soup is wonderful fresh, but I might even prefer it leftover.

1. Place the dried mushrooms in a small bowl with ½ cup water; cover the bowl with plastic wrap, use a paring knife to make about 5 holes in the plastic wrap, and microwave on high for 30 seconds. Set aside for 10 minutes to let the mushrooms soften. Use a fork to lift the softened mushrooms out of the liquid. Mince the mushrooms and strain the liquid through a coffee filter to remove grit, reserving the strained liquid. (This is the official method; I never do it this way, I just let the grit settle to the bottom of the liquid and leave the bit of gritty liquid behind when I use the liquid later in the recipe.)

2. In a large saucepan, heat the oil over medium heat. Add the onions and carrots and cook, stirring occasionally, until the onions just start to brown around the edges, about 8 minutes. Add the garlic and tomato paste; cook, stirring constantly, until fragrant, about 30 seconds.

3. Add the fresh mushrooms; cook, stirring occasionally, until they release their liquid, 3-5 minutes. Increase the heat to medium-high and cook until the liquid evaporates and the mushrooms just begin to brown, about 10 minutes. Add the sherry; scrape up any browned bits on the bottom of the pan. Add the broth, farro, minced porcini, the liquid leftover from soaking the mushrooms, 2 teaspoons salt, and ½ teaspoon pepper. Bring to a simmer over high heat, then reduce the heat to medium and simmer for about 40 minutes, until the farro is tender. (The soup can be stored at this point for up to 5 days. Heat on the stove over medium heat just before serving.) Stir in the sherry vinegar. Add more salt and pepper if necessary; serve.

My notes call this Saturday night cooking adventure “Light Italian Meal”. I was experimenting with wet scallops – scallops that have been treated with sodium triphosphate to help them retain moisture. Cooks Illustrated has a recipe designed to make wet scallops palatable, so I gave it a go. I tried to keep the rest of the meal relatively light to compliment the scallops, starting with these ravioli, then moving onto insalata di crudita before serving the seared scallops with almond cream sauce. Pinot grigio and whole wheat ciabatta accompanied every part of the meal.

This was the only recipe I made that night that I was really excited by. The only reason the ciabatta doesn’t qualify is because I didn’t follow much of a recipe, and the salad, although crisp and fresh, was a fairly typical side salad. The scallops were a disaster. Not only was the almond cream sauce too rich, but the scallops themselves didn’t brown until they had overcooked into balls of rubber. What’s worse, while I set them aside to finish the sauce, the cooked scallops released a freaky blue liquid. I choked a down few and filled up on bread.

I wish I had made enough ravioli to fill up on those, rather than teasing myself with a small starter course serving. These pasta pouches with their vibrant filling were the highlight of my meal that night. There aren’t many ingredients in the filling, but each one has something to offer: the peas are both sweet and earthy, the shallots are bright, the parmesan salty. This humble mixture might have not had much to live up to compared to the rest of the meal, but it would have been just as special on its own.

1. Combine the flour and eggs until smooth (either by hand, with a food processor, or with a stand mixer). Add more flour if the dough is sticky or more water if it’s crumbly. If you stick a dry finger into the center of the dough, it should come out nearly clean. Wrap the dough in a damp towel and set aside to rest while you prepare the filling.

2. Force the peas through the fine disk of a food mill into a bowl to remove their skins. Heat the oil in a small skillet over medium heat; add the shallot and a pinch of salt; cook until shallot is softened, 3-4 minutes, stirring occasionally. Combine the pea puree, cooked shallot, parmesan, and bread crumbs.

3. Divide the dough into 6 portions. Working with one portion at a time, flatten it and fold in thirds, like a letter. Roll it through the widest setting on a pasta roller. Repeat the folding and rolling 3-4 more times, flouring the dough as needed to prevent sticking. Adjust the pasta roller to the next thinnest setting; roll the pasta sheet through. Continue thinning the pasta until the next-to-thinnest setting. Lay the thinned pasta sheet on a dry dish towel. Repeat with the remaining portions of pasta.

4. Place one rounded teaspoon of filling every 3 inches along the length of a pasta sheet. Using a pasta brush or your fingers, wet the pasta in between the rounds of filling. If the pasta sheet is at least 4 inches wide, fold it lengthwise over the filling. If the pasta sheet is too thin to fold lengthwise, lay a second pasta sheet over the filling. Press around each ball of filling to seal the two layers of pasta together. Use a pizza roller to cut between the filling to form squares of ravioli. Store the ravioli on a dry dish towel (there’s no need to cover it). Repeat with the remaining dough and filling.

5. Combine the broth, garlic, lemon zest, and salt and pepper to taste in a saucepan; bring to a simmer. Lower the heat and cover to keep warm.

6. Bring a large pot of water to a boil; add a tablespoon of salt and lower the heat until the water is at a lively simmer. Cook the ravioli in small batches until al dente, 2 to 3 minutes, using a skimmer or large slotted spoon to remove the ravioli from the boiling water. Divide the cooked ravioli between six soup bowls.

7. Discard the garlic in the broth. Ladle the hot broth over the ravioli. Garnish with herbs and cooked peas, if desired; serve immediately.

When I was a kid, my friend Katie and I played a game in which we had a restaurant. We wrote up a menu and would let our parents order food from it, and then we’d bring them what they ordered. In other words, our parents paid for their food twice – once at the grocery store, and then a second time to Katie and I after we heated it up in the microwave for them.

Among other delicacies, our menu included nachos (Cheez Whiz and chips) and tomato soup. Tomato soup was probably our specialty. At Katie’s house, the Campbell’s concentrate was mixed with milk, but at my house, we added water. Katie and I were nothing if not accommodating to our customers’ preferences.

This tomato soup is not that tomato soup. It’s brighter, fresher, but still deeply flavored from the roasted tomatoes. The shallots make it just a little sweet, and a pinch of allspice adds warmth. This soup, topped with whole wheat macaroni noodles and served alongside cheese toast, is my favorite meal. It’s even worth ordering in a real restaurant.

This recipe is messier without an immersion blender, but I made it that way for years. Use a large slotted spoon to transfer the solids to the blender with a cup or two of liquid and blend to puree. Pour the pureed mixture back into the liquid; stir in the brandy. You can blend everything instead of just the solids, but the soup will turn orange instead of red.

Feel free to add in a few tablespoons of cream (or pureed cottage cheese for a healthier alternative) at the end if you’re like Katie’s family and prefer your tomato soup creamy.

1. Adjust an oven rack to the upper middle position and heat the oven to 450 degrees. Line the bottom and sides of two 8- or 9-inch round pans with aluminum foil. Use a slotted spoon to remove the tomatoes, one by one, from their juice. Open the tomato on the side opposite the stem. Holding the tomato loosely in a fist, gently squeeze the tomato to remove most of its juice. Place the tomato stem-side up on one of the prepared pans. Repeat with the remaining tomatoes. Sprinkle the tomatoes with the brown sugar. Roast the tomatoes until they are dry and lightly browned, about 45 minutes. Reserve the tomato juice.

2. Melt the butter in a large saucepan over medium-low heat. Add the shallots, tomato paste, and allspice to the pot; stir, then cover the pot and cook, stirring occasionally, until the shallots are soft, about 10 minutes. Add the chicken broth, reserved tomato juice, and roasted tomatoes. Bring to a simmer over medium-high heat, then reduce the heat to low, cover, and simmer 15 minutes. Use an immersion blender to puree the soup. Stir in the brandy and serve.

This recipe is in one of my earliest blog entries, but I have simplified and healthified (but not de-tastified) the soup since then, so I thought it was worth posting an updated version.

Living in southern New Mexico, I’m out of touch with all of the weather systems the rest of the country gets. The weather here is always the same – sunny, dry, cold at night and warm in the afternoon (hot at night and hotter in the afternoon in the summer), windy in the spring. So even though I know most of you are burned out on cold and snow, I’m very excited right now that we’ve gotten a taste of real winter here.

And, even better, a snow day. A snow day! Not that it takes much snow to get a snow day here, but that’s even better – a snow day with no shoveling to do!

The first time I made this soup was years ago, and it was just as cold that day. I remember that Dave and I went to a political rally in Ithaca, and afterward, we were talking while I made the soup, and I got distracted and added the pepper flakes twice. Sadly, that ruined the soup. It was almost inedibly spicy; so much for the careful balance of flavors I was hoping for.

The soup is a whole lot better when you make it correctly. Just a bit spicy, all mixed in with tomatoes and vegetables and beans. A warm hearty bowl of soup is the perfect way to cap off a snow day.

I added 2 cups less water than the recipe calls for. I’m sure the original recipe is fine too; I was just in the mood for something thicker. If you do this, make sure you decrease the salt to ½ teaspoon.

1. Heat the oil in a large Dutch oven over medium-high heat until shimmering but not smoking, about 2 minutes. Add the pancetta and cook, stirring occasionally, until it’s beginning to brown, 3 to 5 minutes. Add the onion and celery; cook, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables are softened, 5 to 7 minutes. Add the garlic, oregano, red pepper flakes and anchovies; cook, stirring constantly, until fragrant, about 1 minute. Add the tomatoes, scraping up any browned bits from bottom of the pan. Add the cheese rind and beans; bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to low and simmer to blend the flavors, 10 minutes.

2. Add chicken the broth, water and 1 teaspoon salt; increase the heat to high and bring to a boil. Add the pasta and cook until tender, about 10 minutes (refer to package instructions to better estimate pasta cooking time).

3. Discard the cheese rind. Off the heat, stir in 3 tablespoons of the parsley; adjust the seasoning with salt and pepper. Ladle the soup into individual bowls; drizzle each serving with olive oil and sprinkle with a portion of the remaining parsley. Serve immediately, passing the grated parmesan separately.

When my parents brought home a half-grown boxer puppy, I asked them why they got such an ugly dog. With her squashed face, beady eyes, and unproportional torso, she was a far cry from the beautiful German shepherd I’d grown up with. Then we took her out to the backyard to run around and within minutes, I was exclaiming that she was the cutest thing ever! She raced back and forth, eagerly stopping by our sides for head pats. She had no tail to speak of, so instead wagged her entire butt back and forth. What a great dog (except for the drool and the farts). She certainly taught me an important lesson about how it’s what’s inside that really counts.

This soup might look oddly curdled to you, with random chunks of red floating on top. But I know that the mottled look is from sweet rich coconut milk, and the soup is full of healthy tomatoes and red peppers. I know that quinoa adds a bit of crunch to the soup, and chickpeas offer something to chew on.

We gave the boxer puppy an ultra-feminine name, Belle, to counteract some of her less feminine traits. And maybe that’s why this soup has such a descriptive name. Without all of those flavorful ingredients right in the title, how would you have any idea what’s in that suspicious orange-tinted broth? Your first impression might not reflect how good it really is.

My dad called Marlena de Blasi’s A Thousand Days in Venice “the most unrealistic true story [he’s] ever read.” He has a point – life-changing decisions based on love at first sight and all – but I still enjoyed Marlena’s attitude. It’s all about soaking up the good stuff, not sweating the small stuff, living life to the fullest – all of the things we know we should be doing, but too often let the rest of life get in the way.

(I can’t resist telling you that I used an excerpt from this book as a reading in our wedding. “As a couple there is some sense about us that feels like risk, like adventure, like the tight, sharp bubbles of a good champagne.” <romantic gushy sigh>)

She also has recipes in the book, all of which are about soaking up the good stuff, not sweating the small stuff, tasting food to the fullest. I’ve always remembered in particular the pappa al pomodoro, because it combines so many of my favorite things: fresh tomatoes, bread, tomato soup.

Well, I didn’t use her recipe. There are so many variations, and I’m sure they’re all traditional in one sense or another, so I chose the one that seemed the most fun for me. Because that’s what this is all about, right?

Pappa al pomodoro tastes equally of summer tomatoes and of good bread. Although I should stop calling it soup, because it isn’t. It’s porridge, thick and homey and comforting. When food tastes like this and is as much fun as this was to make, you can’t help but focus on what life is really about.

1. Bring a medium saucepan of water to a boil over high heat. Meanwhile, score a small ‘X’ on the underside of each tomato, cutting just through the skin. Dip the tomatoes in the boiling water for 10-15 seconds, until the skin around the X starts to curl. Remove the tomatoes from the water. Peel the tomatoes by pulling the skin back from the X; core and roughly chop the tomatoes.

2. In a large pot, heat the olive oil over medium heat. Add the onions and a pinch of salt; cook, stirring occasionally, until the onions are soft and just starting to brown at the edges, about 8 minutes. Add the garlic and cook, stirring constantly, for about 30 seconds, then add the chopped tomatoes. Cook and stir until they start to release their liquid, 2-3 minutes, then add the basil stem (not the leaves), ½ teaspoon salt, and the broth. Taste and add a pinch of sugar if the soup seems too acidic. Bring to a simmer over medium-high heat, then lower the heat to maintain a slow simmer and cook for 10 minutes. Stir in the bread, turn off the heat, and let the mixture set for 15 minutes.

3. When ready to serve, either stir the soup to break up the bread chunks, or, if you’d like a smoother mixture, process it lightly with an immersion blender. Taste for seasoning, stir in the basil leaves, and top with freshly ground black pepper and extra virgin olive oil. Serve.